She should have known. She should have fucking KNOWN what would happen when she had gone to answer that raid. What the fuck had ever made her think it would go differently than anything else she had ever set out to accomplish? Shaking, nearly sick with the depth of her furious self loathing she dug her claws into the rotted stump, ripping it apart. Aris had made her way south after failing at yet another raid against an opponent who should have been far inferior but who managed to defeat her with seeming ease. She'd been here for only a few hours but the clearing was wrecked and her wrathful energy had not been spent yet. Clawed trees and shedded clumps of grass and ripped apart rotted stumps weren't enough. The land's current rather macabre nightmare atmosphere fit her mood well, though, as she turned away from the stump to seek out a new victim.

Tyrfing had delivered his offering and begun to traverse the woods east, back toward home. Normally he would avoid the fog-laden forest on his path out of ease of travel and visibility, but as his hummingbird had vouched for the validity of these Gods too, the faithful viking felt it right to pass by this altar as well. He had nothing to give to the three-headed dog that parted the fog but prayer and presence, and so Tyrfing made sure to devote a suitable amount of time to silent worship at the cerberus' paws.

On his way east a cacophony of violence caught his ears. Who was doing battle among the said-to-be-haunted forest, so close to an altar of the Gods? Tyrfing followed the sounds through the fog, allowing them to lead him into the devastated clearing and to catch sight of the one responsible. He recognized her instantly as the small spitfire who had fought with him on the hidden peaks of the nearby mountain, though the energy she carried with her today was noticeably different. Versus the cat Aris had been heated and passionate, fighting it with an understandable sort of madness. The Aris before him now seemed out of her mind with rage and the clearing wore the evidence of that boiling anger plain as day.

Tyrfing took a step further, approaching the crazed fighter with a calm readiness. He would not shirk at needing to put down a rabid dog on a rampage so close to Avalon's borders, though it would be only in self-defense that he would raise to her tooth and claw. It's what Corbie would want, Fin supposed. "I pegged you for more lightning then tornado." The viking commented. "Precise and deadly, sparing and not wasteful. What has you so riled to bring about such destruction?"  

The voice spun Aris around, back arching to raise the spiny bristles over her spine as she turned on whoever it was with a snarl. She froze with narrowed eyes for a moment before her demeanor thawed. It was the guy with the tiger - that had been a fun day. Suppose if she had to share her time with anyone today, he'd be interesting anyway. Tossing her head, she snorted at the words he'd spoken to interrupt her rampage, but didn't deign to respond to them. "You haven't brought another tiger with you for me, have you?" she asked, trying for a playful tone but descending into a hungry growl without meaning to.

Her tail twitching like a stalking cat, she circled around to the male's other side. Narrow-eyed, watchful, she slid her tongue against her oversized fangs in a thoughtful gesture. She considered challenging the larger male, throwing herself at him in battle to prove herself, but even with the fury raging through her she hesitated in doubt. That made her feel even more aggressive, but she couldn't bring herself to risk a loss right now. She couldn't stand the idea of another loss with the last still stinging, but the need to burn off some of that anger in physicality rose to choke her until she suddenly stilled her restless pacing, and a wicked grin bared her fangs and changed her expression to something both mischievous and sensual.

"You're right. Stumps and trees are not enough to... sate my... needs," she purred, tasting each word in a very precise manner. She rarely indulged this side of herself, but the adrenaline--laden tingle of her skin made her very, very aware of the male. "What do you suggest I do instead?"

Tyrfing had not expected this reaction, tracking her with his eyes and ears as the tiny, anger-fueled warrior circled him. He did not take kindly to being looked at like prey and was more than ready to show her as much, but something else burning behind her eyes brought him pause. "I'm afraid not." Fin commented dryly. "You'll have to make do with me." Her pacing set him on edge, every muscle tensing in preparation for what was to come. It would be a shame to have to harm her, but Tyrfing would not lay down and die beneath the fangs of a rabid beast - not even one he had come to enjoy.

Her pacing ceased and Fin's amethyst gaze locked upon her own, readied for a fight that never did come. He watched her expression shift, the indecision and anger becoming something else. Something very recognizable, but woefully unfamiliar. The viking's head cocked infinitesimally, brows beginning to knit as he observed her odd to judge exactly how serious her change of heart may be.

As he began to let down his guard, more became clear. There was a lingering scent in the ravaged clearing, enticing and sweet and without a doubt radiating out from this female. A ghost of a smile tugged at his lip as he clued in further, taking a bold step toward her and hoping her fury remained subdued. At least for the moment. "Well, if it's to save the stumps and the trees." He feigned a reluctant surrender. "I could think of an activity or two that might occupy your time and energy."

Reaching forward, he moved to lace his cat claw beneath her own to give it a light and playful tug. "So long as these remain put away, of course. I'm quite happily unscarred, you see." He ducked his head and neck more to her level, inspecting her bared fangs with a sabered grin of his own. "Such little fangs, are they even capable of leaving a mark behind? I suppose those I might be able to handle." Fin couldn't resist but prod at her, to take advantage of the spitfire personality he had met and daring to bring back her ire just a bit to a level more controllable. A little passion never hurt anyone, after all.

Aris bared her fangs further with a snarl that was half aggression, half grin. That sounded like a challenge to her. All right, she would gladly play this game. Her anger wasn't... gone, her self loathing still biting sharply at her mind, but the male's presence had distracted her from it, had transformed the bloodlust into... well, lust. Her fur prickled in excitement, though she kept her spiked hackles down. She made it a point to make a big show of sheathing her claws. "I suppose we can't mar your pretty face," she rumbled. Pressing herself against his chest, she pressed sensual nips along his jaw. "Maybe we will find out just how much you can handle..."

-fade to black-